Second Chances

Chapter 3

Alex sang as he drove east. He’d picked up his rental car — a very generic-looking, tan Chevrolet Malibu — Saturday morning so he could get an early start on Monday. It’s a little over nine hours of driving from Ankeny, Iowa to Columbus, Ohio. Alex left home at 5:30 AM. He made a quick stop at McDonald’s in Coralville for a little caffeine. That, in turn, resulted in a potty break at a rest stop somewhere in western Illinois. He’d stopped for the lunch special at LongHorn Steakhouse in Champaign, Illinois, and for gas in Oakwood, just west of Danville. Now Alex found himself on Interstate 70, approaching Richmond, Indiana. A little more than two hours to go.

Generally, Alex would fly if the drive took more than six or so hours. When he checked for this trip, though, the choice of flights was limited at best. Of course, there were no direct flights between Des Moines and Columbus, and this time, it seemed the trip would’ve involved a long layover. So long, in fact, that he would have taken nearly nine hours of traveling, anyway. ‘Ugh, the connections all seem to be through Chicago,’ thought Alex. ‘I hate O’Hare.’ Plus, the cost of a round-trip ticket, purchased less than a week in advance, was even steeper than normal. So, he thought he’d save the company some money. ‘Besides, this way I can set my own schedule, and not worry about missing a flight.’ It was a good thing Alex liked to drive. And sing. For Alex, driving and singing went together like peanut butter and jelly.

The drive began with Morning Addition on Iowa Public Radio. Alex usually got his news while driving. But rarely did the news help keep him awake, hence the large diet Coke from McDonald’s. And the subsequent potty break. While Alex loved to sing, he knew that singing also helped to keep him from falling asleep behind the wheel. ‘Just one more benefit,’ he’d often thought.

The music stopped, replaced by an incoming call. Alex accepted. “Hello?”

“Hi Alex, it’s Rhys. I’m not calling at a bad time, am I?”

“Hi Rhys. I’m driving through eastern Indiana. I don’t think you could’ve possibly called at a better time.”

Rhys chuckled. “I just wanted to ask you if you were still planning on meeting up with the guy you were chatting online with.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it. We’re going to meet up for dinner tomorrow night. And I know you and Jesse are worried that I’m going to get hurt, and I appreciate your concern. But don’t worry about it. We’re meeting for dinner. I’m not trying to hook up with David, much less have a relationship. I mean, if something happens, something happens. But at this point, the only commitment I’ve made is to meet for dinner. I’m a big boy, Rhys. I can handle it.”

Rhys snickered, then said, “Sounds good. Are you still planning on being back on Friday? We wanted to know if we were going to see you at karaoke. And have you thought any more about participating?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I knew you were going to ask that! So much pressure you guys put me under!”

“I’m sorry,” responded Rhys. “We don’t really mean to push you too hard. We know you like to sing, and we’d just like to get you to participate. You know, get out of your shell a little.”

“I know, Rhys. And you know I appreciate it. You guys have been so great, making me feel like I fit right in. And to be honest, I actually have been thinking about it. Singing, that is. But if I do it, and that’s still a big if, it’s going to take a little cooperation from someone in the group.”

“Alex, you know everyone wants you to do it. But what do you mean by ‘cooperation’? You want to rehearse or something? Or are you thinking about a duet?”

Alex giggled softly before responding. “No, nothing like that. I’ll need a designated driver.” Alex could almost hear Rhys’s confusion. “You see, I know I’ll need some liquid courage. I’m not sure of the quantity of alcohol I will need to consume, but I’m thinking somewhere around four to six drinks. I may not be a lightweight in most instances, but I am when it comes to alcohol. So, I will need someone to pick me up and take me home afterwards.”

“Okay, I get it,” Rhys said, laughing. “That can be arranged.”

“That’s still a big if. I’m still not ready to commit to singing at this point.”

“Okay, Alex, no pressure. And Jesse or I can play chauffeur for you would like to have a few, whether you sing or not.”

-----

When Tuesday arrived, Alex was surprised at how nervous he felt. He awoke before the alarm, which was not uncommon for him while traveling. He rarely slept well in hotels. The butterflies began as soon as he’d gotten out of bed. Before heading out to meet the day, he struggled to finish a bowl of knock-off raisin bran at the hotel’s continental breakfast. He was preoccupied during the day, working much slower than he normally would. Alex decided to skip lunch to try and get back on the schedule he’d set for himself. Who was he kidding? He was much too nervous to eat, anyway. ‘Alex, you need to get yourself together,’ he thought to himself. ‘This is how I felt on my first date in high school. So nervous I could barely eat when Carol and I got to the restaurant. This is not a date, Alex. You’re just meeting someone for dinner!’

Though Alex told himself that this was only dinner, his mind began to wander well beyond. Alex began thinking up scenarios that went beyond simply a shared meal with a friend. “The weather’s beautiful today. Maybe we’ll want to go for a walk after dinner. Maybe we’ll want to go for a drink or two after dinner.” Maybe this was a date, after all. A blind one, to be sure, but still a date.

Alex wrapped up his work early and headed back to his hotel. His nervousness continued to deepen, and his thoughts continued to grow and expand beyond “only dinner.” He headed out the door nearly an hour ahead of his “non-date,” even though the trip to Short North would take no more than 20 minutes or so. “I’ll need to find parking,” he reasoned. “And who knows how long the walk to the restaurant will take?”

Sure enough, about 20 minutes later, Alex cruised by the restaurant as he headed south on North High Street. “Now that I know exactly where it is, I can hunt down a parking spot,” he muttered to himself. “But first, I’ve got to figure out how to get turned around.” After parallel parking only two blocks from the restaurant, Alex sat back in his seat, closed his eyes, and tried to relax, but his nervousness had now reached a crescendo. The words he spoke to himself were not unlike the words he’d spoken to himself not three weeks before, before entering the Grumpy Goat. He’d met some very nice guys and was on his way to establishing solid friendships with at least two of the men. ‘Okay Alex, you can do this. You got this.’

Never one to be late, Alex exited his car at 6:20. He walked to the corner so he could cross a very busy High Street with the aid of a crosswalk and traffic lights. After crossing to the east side of the street, he headed south, passing several bars and restaurants, an ice cream shop, an art gallery, and a bridal store. However, he barely took notice. He was staring at his phone, looking at the text exchanges he’d had with David over the previous week. He then brought up the picture that David had sent him. ‘A pretty good-looking guy. I’ll keep his picture up, so I can spot him.’ While staring at his phone, he nearly walked into two men walking in the opposite direction. As Alex apologized, he heard one of the men say to the other, “Old people.” Slightly miffed, he continued, watching where he was going. He kept his phone in hand, however, with David’s picture still on the screen.

When he stepped into the restaurant, he told the greeter that he was planning on meeting someone. In a voice much too perky and a smile that seemed to expand well beyond the limits of her face, the greeter asked if his name was Alex. After answering in the affirmative, the greeter said, “Please follow me. Your friend is already here.” Alex followed the greeter, who took him to a table for two near the back of the restaurant.

Alex stopped. The man stood. He glanced at the man, then his phone, then back to the man again. He called to the greeter, who was walking away. “Uh, excuse me, but I think there’s been a mistake…”

Before he could complete the sentence, the man who’d stood said, “No, no. No mistake. I’m David.” He extended his hand in greeting. Rather than shake the proffered hand, however, Alex simply stared at the man for a few seconds. The man slowly lowered his hand when it became apparent that Alex would not reciprocate. Instead, Alex sat down at the table, his mouth hanging open. David returned to his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Once seated, Alex found his voice. Quietly, he began to speak. “Dude. What the hell? Are you even the same person as the photo you sent me?”

David responded, sounding somewhat surprised. “Yes, that’s m…”

Alex spoke before David could complete his sentence. “You said you were 47. You are clearly at least my age, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re older than that.” David began to shift uneasily in his seat. “And you told me you were 6-foot one, and you’re no taller than me. And you clearly weigh more than me. I’m still not sure this is a picture of you. What the hell?”

David again spoke, a note of defiance in his voice. “Now come on, everyone exaggerates a little when describing themselves in those chat rooms.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t,” Alex shot back, somewhat louder than before. “How old, exactly, is this picture?”

“Uh, well, a couple years. Come on, you didn’t send me a current picture, either.”

“No, but the photo I sent was no more than a few months old.” He quickly added, “Well, that explains why your hairstyle in the photo is so dated.” Alex’s voice rose further. A few diners at nearby tables began to turn to see the commotion. Alex continued, “It’s beginning to make more sense now. I should’ve seen through your bull, but I was blind. You ‘forgot’ that GPS was a thing. You probably forgot because you don’t even know how to use it. What else did you tell me that isn’t true?” David continued to squirm uncomfortably.

Alex leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Well, what else isn’t true? Let me guess. Your dick isn’t as big as you claimed, either.” David lowered his eyes from Alex to the table. His voice rising again, Alex said, “I don’t believe it. If you wanted to make up shit online, that’s one thing. But when you and I agreed to meet, why wouldn’t you have come clean? I mean, I can clearly see you are not who claimed to be. You knew it would be obvious that you’d, uh, ‘exaggerated’ pretty much everything you’d told me.”

“Now, Alex, come on…”

“Come on, nothing. I just don’t believe it. I just…errgh!” Alex rose, and without looking back, walked brusquely through the restaurant to the front door. The greeter, with her ponytail bouncing, said with the giant smile, “Have a nice day!” Alex managed a grunt in reply.

Alex stomped the two blocks to his car, eyes facing forward, limbs swinging rapidly, and an expression of anger on his face. He unlocked the car, sat down behind the steering wheel, and leaned his head back on the headrest, his eyes closed. He quietly sat in that position for a few minutes before beginning a lecture to himself, muttered under his breath. “God Alex, you are such an idiot. How could you have been so naïve? I am just so stupid sometimes…” After another minute, he opened his eyes and reached for his phone.

“Hi, Alex. It’s Rhys.”

“Hi, Rhys. Is now a good time to talk?”

“Sure. I’ve got Jesse with me. You’re on speakerphone. We’re headed to the Y right now.”

“Hey, Jesse.”

From the background, Alex heard Jesse respond. “Hi, Alex. Wasn’t tonight the night you were going to dinner with your friend?”

Alex replied with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Yeah. Except for that ‘friend’ part. David turned out to be anything but.”

“Oh, no!” replied Rhys.

“Yeah. You guys were right. I’m sorry I poo-pooed your warnings.”

Jesse queried, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess,” said Alex. “I guess I just need a little validation at the moment. I was so stupid.”

“What happened?” asked Rhys.

“Well, let’s just say that David lied about everything. He lied about his age, his height, his weight, everything! If you’re going to lie about something, make it something that won’t be obvious at first glance! I mean, if you’re going to lie, lie about your job or something, not your freaking height! And, well, I know I told you that we were just meeting for dinner, and that is what I’d intended. But by this afternoon I’d built it up in my mind that this really was a date.”

Rhys responded, “I’m so sorry,” while Jesse added “Oh, Alex, no.”

His eyes closed, Alex shook his head in shame, even though there was no one to see. "No, guys, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and I’m sorry I was dismissive of your warnings.”

“Alex,” replied Jesse, “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“So,” asked Rhys, “what are you going to do tonight instead?”

“Well, first off, I’m going to get some dinner. I haven’t eaten all day.” Alex then added, “I was too nervous to eat. You know, like a 15-year-old, going on his first date.”

“You’re sure you’re going to be alright?” asked Jesse.

“Yes. Thanks guys, I just needed to vent, I guess.”

Rhys queried, “Well, where are you going to dinner?”

“Well,” remarked Alex, “I’m in the part of town called ‘Short North,’ and there are a bunch of restaurants around here. I’ll pick one and have a nice dinner. Thanks again, I appreciate you listening to me.”

After disconnecting, Alex again closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. A moment later, he pulled up Apple maps to check out the nearby restaurants. “I really could go for Mexican,” he muttered to himself. “Or Italian.”

Ten minutes later, Alex found himself at the entrance to Forno Kitchen + Bar. He held the door open for two men. They were the two men he’d nearly walked into earlier in the evening. One of the men said, “Jeez, dude, isn’t it time you retired from your doorman job?” The other man simply snickered.

‘Maybe I can find a Tim Horton’s that’s still open and get an apple fritter for dinner instead,’ thought Alex, suddenly not in the mood for Italian.

In the end, Alex went to one of his favorite chain restaurants, Chuy’s Tex-Mex Grill. He tried to enjoy dinner, but the evening had been such a letdown. ‘Even their salsa doesn’t taste quite as good as usual,’ he thought to himself.

After returning to the hotel, Alex decided to work off some of that dinner in the hotel’s meager fitness center. ‘Wow, a choice between a treadmill and a stationary bike. Woo-hoo,’ he thought to himself as he entered the fitness center. He sat down on the bike, and, after discovering that one of the pedals was missing, moved to the treadmill to walk for an hour. While walking, he was able to spend some time reflecting on the evening’s events. He concluded that he needed to get back up, dust himself off, and move on.

He went to bed earlier than normal, expecting to be staring most of the night at the ceiling. Surprisingly, he managed to get a relatively good night’s sleep.

-----

Alex awoke when his phone began playing Abba’s Take a Chance on Me. ‘Good thing I remembered to set my alarm,’ he thought. After turning off his alarm, Alex sat up and stretched. He felt refreshed. He got out of bed and opened the window curtains. He was greeted by an autumn sun just poking its head above the horizon and a view of the morning traffic heading south along I-71 from Delaware County towards the heart of Columbus. He went into the bathroom, where he saw his reflection in the mirror. His shoulders sagged and a look of disappointment crossed his face. “Still fat and old,” he muttered. “How the hell did I get so old?”

He then thought back to the heart-to-heart he had had with himself the evening prior. ‘It doesn’t matter if you are old and fat, Alex,’ he thought to himself. ‘You still need friendship, and you still deserve to be happy.’

He continued his internal pep talk as he ate his generic cheerios in the hotel’s lobby. By the time he grabbed his messenger bag and walked to his car in the parking lot, the spring had returned to his step. He’d made up his mind. He knew what he was going to do that evening.

-----

It was twenty minutes to eight when Alex stepped into the bar. He looked around, taking in the room. He found it surprisingly bright. Only a handful of people were there, scattered amongst the high-top tables. A couch, coffee table, and three chairs formed a small lounge in an alcove on the left. A few wall-mounted televisions were scattered about, with most tuned into professional baseball games, though sportscasters appeared to be discussing English Premier League soccer on one of the screens. The volume was turned down on all the televisions. Alex thought the place was remarkably quiet. The bar itself was located at the rear of the room, the only occupant being the bartender. He appeared to be in his thirties, somewhat stocky but not obese, and he had thinning blonde hair and a neatly trimmed goatee.

The eyes of the few people present all turned to the door to see who had entered. Alex swallowed hard, then walked towards the bar at the rear of the room. Disinterested, the customers turned away, leaving only the bartender to watch Alex as he approached.

Alex took a seat on one of the bar stools towards the left end of the bar. He nodded a greeting to the bartender, then turned away. The bartender continued to observe him. Alex fidgeted as he continued to look around nervously.

The bartender took a few steps toward Alex. Alex turned back towards him as the man said, “Howdy, stranger. It looks to me like this is your first time in a gay bar.”

Alex again swallowed hard before responding. “God, it’s that obvious?”

The bartender’s lips turned upward as a smile struggled to form. “Well, I’ve been a bartender here for more years than I care to mention. Let’s just say, I’ve had a lot of practice. Don’t sweat it, though. Everybody has a first time.”

Alex forced a smile in response but remained silent. The bartender continued. “So, what’s your poison?”

Alex scanned the list of beers on tap before requesting a sour. He pulled his debit card from his wallet, then handed it to the bartender in exchange for his drink. “I guess you can just hang on to my card for the time being.”

“You got it. My name’s Miles, by the way.”

“Alex,” he said in response.

“It’s early, but it looks like a slow night,” Miles said. “So, do you want to talk about it? Tell me your story? Being a good listener comes with the territory.”

Alex sighed. “I guess so.” Miles’s offer to listen was enough to break the dam. For the next twenty minutes, Alex spoke, and Miles listened, his only response being an occasional nod of understanding. Alex only paused his story long enough for Miles to provide the bar’s regulars with another round.

After twenty minutes, Alex said, “So that’s my story. And I’ve bored you long enough, sorry. Could I get another blueberry sour? It’s really good.”

Miles grabbed the empty glass. As he drew another sour into a fresh glass, he said, “Don’t apologize. It’s part of my job, remember?” He then added as he handed the glass to Alex, “It’s cathartic to spill out your story to a sympathetic stranger, don’t you think?”

Alex nodded in agreement.

The bar’s door then opened and a buff twenty-something with a chiseled jaw and chocolate-brown hair entered. He walked to the bar and sat near the opposite end. “Hey, Miles, how’s it going?”

As the man took a seat on one of the stools, Miles returned the greeting. Alex smiled, raised his glass to the newcomer, and nodded. The greeting was returned with a sneer. “Not a chance, gramps.”

Alex turned to face the bartender. Miles turned toward the new arrival and took his order. After filling a glass for the newcomer, he returned to Alex. “Umm, did I do something wrong?” asked Alex.

Miles responded in a low voice. “Just ignore him. He’s a regular here, and he’s an arrogant prick.”

Alex tried to ignore the remark and pretend it wasn’t said with malice but was unsuccessful. He stared at his glass, swirling the remnants of his drink around before finishing it off. When Miles returned, Alex requested a refill. The second had gone down much faster than the first.

Though the evening started slowly, several more customers entered the bar over the next few minutes. The newcomers chose seats at the high-top tables, then walked to the bar to place their orders with Miles. Alex took note but remained silent. Clearly, Alex realized, this was a young person’s bar. Young was something he was not.

As Alex sipped his drink, two more young men entered and sat at the bar. Both appeared to be in their late twenties, perhaps thirty. Both were gorgeous.

Again, Alex ventured a greeting. “Hey, guys.”

Both men turned their heads slowly toward Alex, then looked him up and down before one of the men responded, “Don’t get your hopes up, old man. We are not interested in anything you have.” His companion chirped, “But whatever you do have, there’s a lot of it.” The men then laughed as they turned away from Alex.

While the earlier comment hurt some, this comment stung. Alex turned forward, his eyes returning to his glass. The men promptly forgot Alex’s presence. Miles filled their drink orders, and the men began to laugh amongst themselves.

Miles returned to Alex. “Sorry about that.”

“What, did they think I was trying to pick them up?” spat Alex. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

“I know, mate,” replied Miles. He then added, “It’s a shame. While things have changed for the better, the LGBTQ community is still treated as second-class citizens in many circles. You would think that between repeatedly being called ‘fag’ and ‘fairy’ by their schoolmates, and the reactions of their families when they came out, that they’d be a little more accepting of others. Unfortunately, gays can be just as bad. I think gays are the worst when it comes to being ageist and ableist.”

“Well,” replied Alex, “I’m taking this as a sign it’s time for me to go.” He finished the last of his drink. Miles inserted the card into the card reader, then handed the reader to Alex for a tip and his signature. As he did so, he said, “Don’t let a couple of assholes get you down.”

Alex handed the reader back to Miles. “Easier said than done. But anyway, thanks for visiting with me. I really did appreciate it.”

Alex slid off the stool and made his way to the door. Two more men were about to enter as he reached the doorway. One of the men held the door open for Alex, saying “Age before beauty,” as he did so. The other man giggled. As Alex walked through the doorway, he responded, “Pearls before swine.” Both men looked at him in confusion, one tilting his head to the side.

Alex did not look back as he stepped into the warm September evening. He was pleased with his retort for a few seconds before he slumped his shoulders. “Like they get the biblical reference, much less know who Dorothy Parker was,” he muttered to himself.

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